


You and Me Against the World

by lahijadelmar



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Short Stories, moments in time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahijadelmar/pseuds/lahijadelmar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short little moments in time between Hancock and Victoria (my interpretation of the female sole survivor) as their relationship and life in the wasteland develops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I could not have picked a better wasteland companion than John Hancock and I will sing his praises to every corner of the Commonwealth. The relationship my lady has formed with him is the stuff of legend, true relationship goals manifested. As said in the summary, these are moments that the game can't feature in the same detail as I have in my head. I wanted to deal more with Victoria's grief and how she's reconciling things as she finds her place in the wasteland and at Hancock's side. There's not a ton of plot here, just little scattered moments between them that I couldn't let float around my head indefinitely. I'm not entirely sure how long or short this will be, I'm just adding things as I get a chance to think of and write them. While I can't completely neglect the specifics of Victoria's character (I'm using this as something of a character study too) I am doing what I can to leave things vague so this story can work for anyone who ships their sole survivor with Hancock.

There had been a cook-out planned, prior to everything. It was a neighborhood thing, a monthly tradition that she and Nate had been invited to a few times before. She had hesitated in accepting the invitation several times on account of not being sure how she fit in with the crowd, uncertain that the Sanctuary Hills women who cared so very much about their hair, shopping, complaining about their husbands and such like would have much interest in, say…legal jargon. Or comic books.

Nate understood; he always did, even though she could tell he wanted nothing more than to go and kick back a beer with the men of the neighborhood, his wife by his side. She saw his longing to be part of them, to really _join_ with the community beyond just occupying a house in the same area.

So, Victoria decided to try a little harder. Even if Nate loved her for who she was and would accept a life free of neighborhood cookouts she wanted to make that a reality for him. And really, how hard could it be? Victoria _knew_ people, she knew what they liked and what made them tick, an ability that until now had helped her more as a lawyer than a popular people person.

She branched out. She spoke to the neighborhood ladies, she made superficial friends that she quickly came to realize were hiding secrets and guilty pleasures of their own, from everyone, behind fake smiles and martinis. She accepted the invitation to the October neighborhood cookout and even offered to make a salad.

And then, as they say…total annihilation. Except, not really.

She found herself at a cookout in Sanctuary Hills after all, some 200 years after the date set for the first, long after humanity was supposed to have been wiped from existence. When the settlement was well-established, when the crops had done exceedingly well and the Minutemen militia had begun to grow just as fast as the new community itself, it was decided there needed to be a celebration of sorts. _General_ Victoria, as she was known now, was the guest of honor.

She sat on an old bench near the festivities, not being one to really savor spotlight attention. This was for the community anyway, the small but ever growing group of people that stood around and near the bonfire of roasting brahman meat. It was beautiful in its own way, the sight of this forsaken rag-tag group laughing together genuinely, enjoying their fortune and place in the world, each other’s company, far more than anyone in old Sanctuary Hills would’ve had the perspective to do. As odd, upsetting and horrible the initial change had been…she felt, in this moment, more at home and at peace with things than she ever had before. She fit in so much better in this reality…she just wished Nate and Shaun could be here too- for however selfish that was. 

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about that Mama Murphy,” Hancock said, startling her a bit out of her reverie as he came up to join her on the bench. “I should have never told her what I’ve got on me. It’s like my shadow’s fucked off and been replaced by Marie Laveau.”

Victoria chuckled under her breath, not unaware of how John stretched out his arm behind her on the bench but pretending to be so, just as she did with the way he had begun looking at and addressing her in the time they’d been traveling together.

They were quiet for a beat before he asked, “Something on your mind, _General_? Or do you always sit on the sidelines and contemplate existence at parties? That’s what it looks like you’re doing, anyway.”

“It’s possible,” she shrugged. “Truth is, I didn’t really… _do_ parties before. They weren’t like this, you know…honest and lacking in pretension.”

Hancock didn’t seem to understand what she meant, though he wanted to. How could he have? The world that existed here hundreds of years ago was beyond anything he or anyone else from this life would be able to comprehend.

“Imagine…a big gathering of institute-controlled synths,” she suggested. “Everyone behaving a certain way because they’ve been told to do so by a bigger influence. _That_ was pre-war Sanctuary Hills, before there was any institute at all. See, you guys don’t realize it, but that’s been a problem long before you were here.”

It still seemed a bit beyond him, but he shook his head, laughed softly and uttered a, “Damn…” anyway, as if not wanting to deny her a sympathetic ear. That was something she liked about him, his ability to acclimate to situations just as quickly and as willingly as she could.

“Well, listen,” he said. “If you’re not having fun here…”

“No, no…I’m enjoying myself, I just like watching from a distance, taking it all in.”

“We could _easily_ do that from the balcony of your new home, you know. Everyone here seems to be enjoying themselves well enough, I don’t think they’d notice if you snuck away.”

She grinned at him then, the same mischievous grin she had given Nate when he would suggest eating pizza in bed so they could watch TV or mixing late night drinks. It was just another way she and Hancock understood each other; they were both people-persons, just in a more close-knit sort of way, still enjoying solitude when they could get it.

Solitude, for her, was still solitude with Hancock there. It was a thing she hadn’t known in a person outside of her relationship with Nate, something she was relieved to have found again. It was probably one of the many reasons they made such a good team.

They slipped away, unnoticed by the small party of people (most of whom were now well beyond sober anyway) and sprinted down the street towards the house she had built for herself on a newly emptied lot. Despite Codsworth’s proposals she had no interest to return to her old house, feeling that it was still too close to the life she had known prior, that she had no chance to move on as she must if she clung to the past. Even when she recovered Shaun, even if there was a chance to resume things as mother and son, she didn’t want remnants left behind of a life they could never have again.

Hancock understood that too as he helped her raise walls and make a new home. It seemed both of them were far more fearful of the past casting a definitive shadow than they were what awaited them in the future.

The festivities and bonfire was easily and, perhaps, better seen from Victoria’s balcony. They resumed their lounge on the bench there with the beers Hancock had grabbed before leaving and, once again, his arm found the wood behind her shoulders. He felt closer this time. Victoria was torn again between wanting to take refuge in whatever he was so obviously eager to share with her…and pulling away. She wasn’t obtuse, she knew they were edging on _something,_ something that was all at once exciting and frightening, familiar and foreign.

“I guess it’s crazy,” Hancock said, looking over at her. “But times like these make me think…maybe we’ve got it better than they did back then. I know, it’s a shitty thing to say, especially since a person could die just by walking out into the commonwealth.”

She knew exactly what he meant and spoke quickly to diffuse the tension he probably felt, out of concern of whether or not he had said the right thing.

“Trust me, there were raiders before the bombs fell, they were just better at hiding their bloodlust. _Everyone_ was. Anyway I agree with you, I mean…look at that sky.”

It was one of the first things she had seen upon arrival into this world. She hadn’t known until now that the night sky, without extensive light pollution, could look like _that,_ as if someone had thrown handfuls and handfuls of the brightest diamonds in existence on to a sheet of dark blue velvet.

“And look at these people,” she continued. “Just grateful to be alive, to be together. You can see it in their eyes. There’s beauty in this world still, Hancock, some of it more remarkable than that of the one I left.”

Hancock wasn’t looking at either of those, but rather at Victoria to watch the way _her_ eyes lit up talking about these things. She _wasn’t_ aware of how close his chest felt to bursting in this moment- and not because of any chem he had taken.

“You’re know how much I l-…like you, right?” he said, his words smooth as usual save for one that he seemed to stumble over. “I could search the whole Commonwealth and never find _anyone_ like you.”

She could hear it now, that dreaded thing she had been hoping would never fully manifest. She turned away and resorted to deflection.

“That’s not surprising. There _is_ no one like me, Hancock, and that’s only because mine was the only cryogenic pod that survived.”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s more than that. The way you’ve adapted to all of this, the way you help people who need it without complaint or hesitation…I mean, look at this town! This place was a dump before you came in, gave them proper living conditions. You give your _all_ for people who need it, but you don’t take shit either.”

There was a lot she wanted to say about him, too, even if their reasons for admiring each other were much the same. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t think she had a chance of finding that sense of home and belonging again when she stepped into the wasteland until she met him. For everything that Sanctuary Hills had become again, it wouldn’t have been what it was without him beside her.

But to tell him these things would be to open a door she didn’t think it fair to even introduce. She knew she wanted to, she was too old now to lie to herself about her feelings, but she _couldn’t_ when thoughts of Nate still made her cry at night, when she still wanted a reality where she could have him back. Her late husband occupied a place in her heart she knew no one would be able to fill, and that made her believe there couldn’t possibly be enough for room for someone else.

“Hancock…” she sighed, trying to find her words.

He sighed too, realizing this game of dancing around his feelings was up.

“Look, look…I get it. I think we both do. I’m not gonna lie and pretend like things are different, like you’re not really hearing what you’re hearing, because…you are. I like you _a whole lot_ and it goes beyond that thirst for adventure…but I’ll just say the difficult thing so you don’t have to- there is _no way_ you’d be with a ghoul.”

Victoria gasped and rounded on him with a look of shocked offense. His surprise was palpable in how he jumped away from her a bit.

“What is _wrong_ with you? What reason have I given to make you think I’m that shallow?”

“ _Hey_ , I don’t think it’s being shallow,” he argued. “Blowing off a decent-looking guy because he doesn’t look like Clark Gable is being shallow. Refusing to spend life with some asshole that ruined his body on chems is just being sensible.”

She rolled her eyes. She found his self-degradation sad on a good day, irritating otherwise. It was insensitive, perhaps, but she hated hearing him talk that way about himself just as much as if it was coming from anyone else.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m already spending life with you…and _enjoying_ it, as it so happens. Immensely.”

He brightened at that, making her wonder how anyone (including himself) could be so critical of his appearance. Ghoul or not, there were few things more lovely than the way his face lit up when he smiled.

“ _Really_ …?”

“Yes, it’s just-….it’s difficult. I never thought I’d be with someone other than Nate. I thought we were going to grow old together. I guess I took a lot of things for granted back then…we all did.”

“Oh…oh, _yeah_ , I’m sorry… fuck, no really, I’m-….you just don’t talk about him much and I didn’t really know-“

Victoria took his hand, despite herself and the effort to not get them lost in something they couldn’t come back from. It was an impulsive move but it felt right.

“It’s okay,” she assured. “I try not to think about him too much either. It’s too hard, even now. I…feel there’s some part of me that hasn’t fully accepted yet that life is over. Nate’s gone. With everything that’s been happening I haven’t really gotten the opportunity to hash that out with myself.”

She didn’t bother explaining beyond that, knowing Hancock would understand. He didn’t say anything aside from holding her hand just a bit tighter.

Victoria looked at him again, wondering how she could even manage to go forward with what she wanted to say when, in all honesty, she really just wanted to give into this.

“That’s this can’t happen, Hancock. Not right now, anyway…if- _when_ it does…I want to be sure it’s all us and not just some subconscious way for me to feel that comfort again. You’re not a chem, I’m not about to use you to feel better about something else.”

She saw that smirk form on his face when he was thinking of a joke, probably something along the lines of being about 90% chem at this point anyway…but it seemed he thought better of saying so outloud at this particular moment.

“No one’s rushing you to anything, sister,” he said instead. “Least of all me. I just speak my mind, I like people to know where they stand with me. This feeling I’ve got for you? I thought I’d die if I didn’t say _something_. You deserve to know just how amazing you are, just how in awe I am of everything you’ve done in the time I’ve known you. This confession doesn’t come with an expectation, you get me?”

She understood, more than she would’ve liked to. The temptation to just _give in_ was at all-time high and for a split second she wondered if that wasn’t enough to go forward, just knowing how she felt, knowing that it was specific to Hancock no matter how it had come to be. Still, ever the paragon of self-restraint, she instead squeezed his hand and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek in gratitude. She could feel the heat of his skin flushing beneath her lips.

“Come on,” he said afterwards, standing and offering her his hand with every bit of gallantry of a Revolution-era gentleman. “The only thing this party’s missing is music and dancing, don’t you think?”

Victoria smirked and accepted without hesitation, eager to see if he was as light on his feet with dancing as he was with a gun.

The song that met them when they flicked on the radio was Bobby Darin’s upbeat ‘Beyond The Sea’ and she let herself give into this moment, knowing only the music, their bodies swaying and occasionally falling together, Hancock’s smile that made it so her knees could barely hold her afloat.


	2. Finding Love in a Hopeless Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all odds, Hancock and Victoria find love in the wasteland. All is well...until it won't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS AHEAD: In fact, there will be a lot of spoilers in the upcoming chapters so that's something I want everyone to be aware of as they proceed. This chapter takes the scenario of how my character actually admitted her feelings in game and changes it just a little for the sake of this particular re-telling. Did I think beforehand they'd have their romantic discovery in a Diamond City trailer? Nope, but that's how these things often go. Also, there's some sexy-tiems stuff in this chapter that has made me up the rating a little. It's nothing I would consider explicit but it's not family-friendly stuff either, just FYI.

Her willpower only held out for so long. In truth, she didn’t really know what she was waiting for. Did something in her think the heavens would part one day and let her know all roads were clear? Love wasn’t like that; for however easy her courtship with Nate had been in comparison to this it had still been fraught with challenges of its own.

She had to face the truth in the last place she would’ve suspected- the radio trailer in Diamond City. It was a simple thing and maybe that was the reason she knew it wasn’t just a flare of adrenaline or chems. There _had_ been a bar fight prior as part of a bigger scheme to instill a sense of confidence to a young man that needed it, something that had led to Hancock laughing in a way she hadn’t seen before. He loved sticking his foot up the ass of someone who deserved it, like the brutes in The Dugout Inn, but more than that he had loved seeing Victoria clock the biggest one in his shit-talking jaw.

More than _that_ , he loved seeing her help someone that desperately needed it, with no self-interest other than doing the right thing.

When the plan had been formed to go save idiot Vadim and Travis and Scarlett had left the trailer, Hancock took her hand.

“I love you,” he said, _just_ like that, like it was the easiest thing in the world to articulate. It was as if he had been saying it to her every day since they had met- and hell, maybe he had been.

Victoria felt her heart catch in her throat. They had spoken of feelings before, of course, but never like this. 

She didn’t scramble for what to say, however. She knew full-well by this point that nothing Hancock said in this respect carried with it any expectation for her to reciprocate or even acknowledge it. He gave his affection, his admiration so freely despite his own hang ups and she began to wonder if there was something wrong in her keeping what she felt from him, no matter her reasons for doing so.

“Then you picked a hell of a girl to love, Hancock,” she said, her voice level in the way he had become familiar with, her face bright in awe of what he had done. “And I think I’d be remiss to not point out that you could probably do better.”

He scoffed out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, of course. This tanned leather face is a real chick magnet, lemme tell you.”

“I _mean_ it. You’ve got a lot going for you. Don’t tell me the women of Goodneighbor weren’t flocking to you like flies on shit?”

He moved closer, their teasing banter doing very little to diffuse the rising heat between them.

“ _That_ is a perfect metaphor,” he said, his voice a little lower now as he took her other hand. “So maybe I had a nightly dalliance here and there. Doesn’t mean anything, not like this. You? I wanna go to the ends of the earth with you. I don’t want to know a life that isn’t spent by your side.”

Maybe to some that would’ve seemed like a big proclamation, especially for how little time they had been together. Then again, that time hadn’t been idly spent. They had traversed a wasteland, helped those who needed it and fucked up those that had it coming, defeated monsters, raiders, stared death in the eye and laughed (quite literally). Victoria had watched, in a moment that seemed to go in slow motion, Hancock get picked up and thrown like a doll by a huge Deathclaw. She had felt her chest almost collapse at the sight, still carrying through with tearing said Deathclaw to pieces before running to his side and getting a wan smile, an assurance of, “Don’t worry about me, sister. I’ve been in bar scraps that were worse than that.”

They may not have known each other long, but they had shared more than most people would have in a lifetime. They were comrade soldiers on a battlefield, an unlikely duo that had seemed tasked with saving the world from itself.

Something like that can bring a bond from 0 to 60, she figured, and understandably so.

_‘What am I waiting for?’_ she asked herself even as her hands found the solid support of Hancock’s shoulders.  She knew she’d never replace Nate- she didn’t have to, either. She could love her late husband and her new best friend and companion because it was a different thing entirely, _they_ were different. Besides that, she knew Nate wouldn’t have wanted her to linger in the past, but move forward in her happiness as best she could.

“Funny,” she said, a slight smirk tugging at her lips as she moved closer to him, as he moved his hands gradually to the small of her back. For as vulgar and flirtatious as he could be, Hancock was still the utmost gentleman in situations where it mattered. “That’s _exactly_ how I feel about you.”

Victoria felt her heart beat quicken as they leaned in, the thrill of the precipice they now dangled off of fluttering inside her. She didn’t want to waste any time but she didn’t want to push them both too quickly. Hancock gently titled her chin forward and though his whispered, “Here’s goes nothing,” wouldn’t have been quite romantic on paper, the intimate tone of his voice and the tenderness of his eyes made her inclined to swoon.

Their lips met and the rest of the world might as well have faded away. It wasn’t better or worse than anything she had shared with Nate, it was _different_. There was no comparison to the delicious roughness of his lips, the warmth of his nearness, that smoky, masculine smell of him more present than ever before, or the feelings that all of this elicited. She could have, _would_ have stayed here indefinitely, just like this.

Or at least longer than the brief time they had before Travis swung open the trailer door.

“Hey are you guys coming or-“

Victoria was startled. Hancock was mildly annoyed.

“I think there was about a fifty percent chance of that before you came barging in here, Wolfman Jack.”

 

* * *

 

Victoria was usually one to wait when it came to being intimate with someone, but not for lack of interest. As with most things, the world before had different rules and expectations, different patterns of behavior that one had to be aware of. As she was no longer playing on that field things had to change and that included how long she would make a man wait for something other than kissing and heavy petting.

For Hancock it was about as long as it took them to get back to Sanctuary Hills. The waiting before, she supposed, had been in the interest of gauging the man’s interest in her, something Nate had no problem with doing. She knew Hancock would’ve demonstrated similar restraint and patience if she had wished it but the point was moot. He had stayed by her side through every battle and hardship, had grabbed her every time from the path of danger when he heard the ticking of a land mine, he had helped her build the Minutemen settlements and deal aid to those that needed it.

As far as she was concerned Hancock had more than proven himself. It was just as well, Victoria didn’t think she had it in her to wait.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to move ever again,” she said afterwards as she lay fixed on her back, staring out at the dazzling night sky from the open space in the wall (the upstairs of her home was something of an open air due to lack of materials- a boon to the settlement that she would redistribute those walls…that is, until she took a lover).

“Yeah? Then _don’t_ ,” he purred, his arm moving up along her side, drawing patterns on her hip. “You can just stay here forever, be all mine.”

She didn’t know how to put into words what it had been like for her, lovemaking like she had never known before. Again, not better or worse than Nate, just _different_. Hancock’s body was different, the way he handled, explored and worshipped her body was _different_. The way he had brought her to the heights of ecstasy and back down again, somehow, was _different_.  And wonderful. And everything she needed.

“Would that I could,” she admitted. “This is one of those moments I wish I could bottle up, like perfume.”

“Never cared much for perfume, myself,” he said, his hand moving downward to grasp her bottom and pull her flush against him once more. Despite being exhausted beyond all reckoning she began to feel arousal flicker and flare within her again once he started peppering nectarous kisses on her neck and chest.

“N-no, me neither-…it was just, ah-…! It was just a metaphor-… _what_ do you think you’re doing?”

“ _Hopefully_ getting laid again, if the lady is willing…” She could feel his smirk against the top of her breast.

“What, _two_ times in a row wasn’t enough for you?”

“Was it enough for _you_?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically as he massaged her breast in one hand.

“Not in the least,” she moaned. “Now stop fooling around and fuck me again already. It feels like it’s been ages.”


End file.
